


Nascence

by terrakatrea



Series: Two roads diverged in a wood [1]
Category: Persona 2, Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Found Family, M/M, brief mentions of child neglect and bullying, memory/timeline shenanigans, p5 flower child, spoilers for the endings of both p2 games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 07:43:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12164526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terrakatrea/pseuds/terrakatrea
Summary: In the reborn timeline, Tatsuya adjusts, dreams of masked circles and floating cities aside. It'd be easier and much less confusing to ignore them, but they seem to have an agenda of their own, and he isn't the only one seeing double.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am unable to title or summarize anything yikes

When Tatsuya opens his eyes, everything is the same. The same as it had always been, a part of him chides, eyes scanning the ceiling of the room he'd had his entire life. It wasn't that he expected it to change – he just couldn't stop holding his breath, waiting for the day he would wake up and remember a time when all of the pieces were arranged differently, close enough to be familiar but different enough to make him feel like none of it had ever been real, or that everyone around him was programmed with a life he didn't sync up with.

Tatsuya sighs, reaching out for his end-table, sitting up a little as he retrieves his father's watch. He hadn't worn it in years, but he'd kept it out lately, never going as far as actually wearing it, but keeping it out of the desk that had been it's respite for the better part of a decade. Something about it grounded him, left him with a sense that he wasn't losing his mind, gave him assurance that the watch had always been with him while at the same time it belonged somewhere else. It was a small connector between instances where a part of him would suddenly stiffen, having made a joke that shouldn’t have been funny and was probably more stupid than anything, glancing at Anna's amused expression and wondering if things had always been this way. When he would wake up remembering dreams of personas and the masked circle and wonder how he'd ever forgotten, carrying the phantoms of a ruined world and all too brief reunions with him for the remainder of the day.

At first, he'd tried to ignore it. Just weird moments of confusion and flashbacks of things that never happened, but they were more than moments, more than a continuous stream of coincidences, and the more he stopped fighting it, the more it began to click into place - disoriented and cluttered, but settled. There was a stubborn, foolish part of him refused to let go of of Lisa's high spirited energy, Eikichi's kindness, Maya's smile, Jun, and how he made Tatsuya feel centred, reminding him how to breathe. They hadn't had enough time to know each other again and it hurt to remember, but the more he let the memories settle, the more they became a part of him, and any distinction between one 'Tatsuya' and another became arbitrary.

Sometimes it took some time, a moment of reminding himself that dead teachers weren't dead, separating memories of his father being framed for two different crimes, or Katsuya as two different detectives. He was one person with two sets of memories, and only one of them matched up with the life he lived. 

And so, he was at a standstill. He was Tatsuya Suou, finally adjusting to his fucked up memory, and he had to figure out how he was going to go about handling it. How the hell to explain to his family that the bizarre events and behaviour that had followed hi8s going missing (the then 'other' Tatsuya had been saving the world, he now knew), returning with a resolve to become a police officer, and promptly disturbing and retreating from most of the people he knew as his daily routine suddenly became confusing as hell - was water under the bridge. There was nothing wrong with him. As far as anyone needed to know, anyway. 

...Maybe he could explain the last few weeks as a really intense drug trip. It felt like it had been a drug trip.

He groans, resisting the urge to throw himself under the covers and never resurface, instead dragging himself into the hallway and towards the kitchen. Better to just dive right into the interrogation while he’s still groggy, he figures.

Something stiffens when he appears in the doorway. His mother, focused expression suddenly broken, eyes stilled in an expression of surprise, concern, and was that hurt? Her hands frozen in whatever gesture she'd been making as she spoke. His father meets his eyes with a hard glance - Tatsuya knows there's a layer of understanding in there somewhere but this knowledge does very little to ease the growing apprehension that is currently reminding him of every benefit to getting the hell out of there.

Suddenly he realizes he’s still holding the damn watch, and looks away like he’s been shocked.

Katsuya scarcely glances up from his coffee. “Good Morning, brother.”

“Yeah. Morning.” Tatsuya nods hesitantly, pacing over to get his own cutlery and breakfast like this wasn't the single strangest thing he's done in weeks, rumour-fuelled spaceship cities and apocalyptic conspiracies included. 

It’s awkward, but it’s just awkward. He can practically feel the questions lingering on their breaths, but they don’t come. If he hadn’t suspected Katsuya was on to him and whatever had been going on with his memory before, he did now.

Katsuya rises. “I think I'm going to head out a bit early today.” He places a hand on Tatsuya's shoulder as he's about to leave. “Would you like to join me? We can finish that conversation we had earlier?”

Tatsuya doesn't even have time to swallow the fact that his brother is possibly giving him an out here. “Yeah. Okay.”

They’re quiet enough on the walk that Tatsuya wonders if he’s supposed to speak first. (He isn’t going to – he has no idea what he’s supposed to say) when Katsuya breaks the silence.

“Tatsuya.”

He glances at his brother, expression neutral.

“Do you...remember what happened last month?”

Tatsuya blinks. 

“About personas? Joker?” Katsuya prompts. “The rumours that tore through Sumaru? The...”Other Side”, I believe you called it? Nyarl-”

“Don't.” He almost hisses. Calm yourself, Tatsuya. “Sorry, It's-you're not wrong. It's just.” Fucked. Up. “Complicated. Confusing. Not the same as before.”

“How so?”

Tatsuya almost tells him to mind his own business, before reminding himself that Katsuya on 'this' side had gotten familiar with bizarre, unexplainable situations and he probably has nothing to lose. He takes a breath and summarizes as best as possible how two lifetimes of memories had converged with one another over the course of three weeks and how he'd nearly gone insane in the process.

“I...see.” Katsuya frowns. “It might sound selfish but I'm grateful, in a way, that I don't have to say goodbye to the brother I'd fought alongside. Though that must sound like I'm choosing one side of you over another.”

“It doesn't.” 

Katsuya looks as if he might question this, but apparently decides against it. “Our parents knew about your role in...solving the joker case, it was the reason they called off the missing persons report. They assume you're still dealing with...complications.”

“Shiori-san told them?” 

“It seems so.”

“Sounds like something she would do.” There's a part of him that might have been angry at this, before. It doesn't matter now.

“I'm...sorry that I can't do more for you. I can't imagine what you must be experiencing.”

“It's fine.” Tatsuya shrugs. “I'm...adapting, I guess.” And because he figures they've sat through enough stilted, awkward conversation for one day. “Go on and get to work. I'll be late, but I do plan on going to school.”

“I know you do.” Katsuya says. “Alright. We can talk later.”

“Yeah.”

 

Tatsuya stares at the burger in front of him, brows furrowed, unredeemed. He'd driven to school, late for homeroom but there, had parked in the back lot, gotten as far as taking off his helmet before glancing up and promptly shoving it back on.

A small group of students stood had stood behind the racks, and as Tatsuya glanced at them and blinked, because what the hell were Cuss High uniforms doing here, their murmurs died down and he froze. Jun, Eikichi and Lisa's surprised glances meeting his own. A part of him fluttered seeing them, noticing them, doing both of these things without the world attempting to corrode itself, but that flutter turned to ice and he quickly got back on his bike. Lisa’s “Su-Tatsuya-senpai, wait!” lost to the wind around him as he seriously considered the prospect of transferring schools.

In his defence, he was more than a little rattled because it hadn’t been the first time he’d seen them together.

When the fragments had started to come together, it had often felt like he’d drifted through town half conscious, different parts of him surfacing and seeking out familiar sights. He’d ended up at the shrine dozens of times, until he had seen the three of them there. (It makes sense, he'd tried to reason with himself. On this side they met here too).

He had since avoided the shrine, the part of him that was this side's Tatsuya seemed to think this was borderline neurotic, but apparently it did not have enough sway to stop him from jumping at the idea of interacting with his friends.

Tatsuya tears into the burger like it's the cause of his life’s struggles. With the way Philemon, Nyarlathotep, the universe, or whatever the fuck seem to enjoy organizing his life, he needs at least some semblance of a plan. Or to snuff down the urge to run every time he sees a Cuss High uniform. Whatever comes first, really.

After scouring his brain and acting revenge on three peace burgers, he settles on a letter. If his memories were right, there was another person who possessed two sets of memories. Someone they had all been willing to rewrite the world to protect, and while he hates the idea of dragging her back into his mess, he’s not sure who else he can ask.

The result is brief, explaining as his situation as best he can and asking to meet. It’s simple, but this doesn’t stop him from writing and re-writing the thing half a dozen times. He drives to Kismet, leaves Maya’s letter with the receptionist, and returns to Sevens for fourth period, with only curious classmates and an over-enthused Ms. Saeko to deal with.

He leaves early the next day, and he figures it’s an added bonus that no one would normally look for him 15 minutes early for homeroom. Hell, if he sees Lisa, which is likely given the universe's sense of humour, it won’t be when he's caught off guard, and it probably won't be with two specific Cuss High students. 

He wonders how the hell Jun ended up in Cuss High in this timeline anyway.

The day passes miraculously smoothly, until he approaches his bike and finds the tires utterly demolished. Who? Is his first thought, before he crouches down, assesses the damage, and sets to work.

“Aha.” A sweep of black hair and bright eyes appears from behind him. “I found you.”

Tatsuya nearly jumps out of his skin, because where the hell had he even come from, when Jun straightens, barely concealing a giggle fit. 

Tatsuya tries to summon annoyance, but what comes out is an incredulous, amused “What the hell are you doing here?”

Jun reaches into his pocket, retrieving a Zippo lighter that Tatsuya knows all too well. “I had to return this to you, for one.” He says. “You didn’t take it last time.”

Tatsuya stands, bike repairs forgotten. “You…that’s why you’re here? Just for that?” He is suddenly viscerally aware that his father’s watch has been in his pocket since he’d left the house with it the morning before.

“Well,” Jun grins. “not quite. There is one other thing I had to confirm with you.”

“What…?” Tatsuya wonders if transferring schools truly is the best course of action here.

“I was talking with Lisa and Michel, and we’ve come to the same conclusion.”

Tatsuya’s mind twitches, anticipation, hope, and bitter fear conspiring to swallow him where he stands.

“So, I think you should take this. In another time, I would have given it to you years ago.”

“Do you-“ Tatsuya starts, the hopeful part of him wanting to confirm it, to believe that they’ve earned a damn happy ending.

Jun takes a step forward. “Do I what?”

“I probably shouldn’t.” Tatsuya says. Like this is something they’ve ever had a choice in.

Jun steps even closer, his fingers slipping through Tatsuya's. “It’s okay. You can say it, Tacchi.”

“You remember.” Tatsuya whispers, the words a flood breaker inside of him. 

He’s holding the lighter, clasped tightly between his and Jun’s hands. There’s a burning in his eyes that probably isn’t repressed tears. 

Jun nods, and Tatsuya notices how tired he looks, how it contrasts with his shining eyes and small smile. It strikes him that the last time he saw Jun this way, they’d been saying goodbye.

Tatsuya doesn’t embrace Jun so much as throws himself over Jun’s shoulders.

Okay fine, he’s definitely crying.

Jun reaches his own arms up and returns the embrace, rubbing his back and whispering calming affirmations in his ear until he returns to reality.

He wonders how he’d ever calmed down without Jun.

Eventually they break apart, both a complete mess, and Tatsuya remembers the watch in his pocket. 

“Right.” He says. “I have something I need to give you, too.”

Jun accepts the watch gracefully, claps it on his wrist and considers it, like a part of him has finally come back home. Tatsuya flicks the Zippo lighter.

“Don’t run from us anymore, Tacchi.” Jun murmurs. “don’t torment yourself like that.”

Tatsuya nods. “Yeah. But…what if?”

“We'll deal with it.” Is Jun's instant response, and Tatsuya holds on to it even though he knows neither of them have a plan or a guarantee of success. “From what I understand...you and Big Maya took care of him?”

“He's not dead.” Tatsuya admits, dread seeping into his words. “But we did beat him. I remember that much. Is that enough?” Enough for a miracle?

“Wouldn’t it make sense if that were the case?” Jun asks. Maybe…we’re all that’s left of that side.”

It’s a sobering thought, when he’s isn't sure whether or not to think of the people he’d known there as separate from their likenesses here. He nods, swallows his apprehension. “I guess we'll find out.”

When Tatsuya returns home, the initial pang of surprise still reverberates through his parents, but he doesn’t acknowledge it and neither do they. He excuses himself, heads to change out of his uniform and assess what a mess his appearance is. Katsuya catches him at the doorway, hands him an envelope.

His mind liquefies and he figures it's fitting that he’s as much of a mess mentally as he is physically. He steps into the room, tears the envelope open. Scrambles through his desk for paper to scribble a response.

They reunite at the shrine two days later, different but unmistakably the same, and it feels like a dream. There’s a lot of emotions there – elation, relief, confusion, & fear, but it doesn’t take them long to discuss the logistics of things, to try and work out exactly what happened with the nothing they have to go on. 

But Philemon is AWOL, apparently, and Nyarlathotep is surprisingly silent, and without omnipresent manifestations of human psyche or reality bending rumours to guide them, answers are hard to come by.

Tatsuya quickly finds he isn't alone in confusing one place for an identical other. They all struggle to an extent, resonating their lives before with the ones they have now, but Tatsuya notices and frequently worries about its toll on Jun. He holds the brunt of it back, behind a wall of composure and acceptance, but Tatsuya sees how he catches himself heading to the wrong station when they head home for the night, the little twitch his fingers make sometimes when he signs his name, or how he sometimes grows quiet around the members of Muses and Gas Chamber.

It’s a constantly evolving process, but they settle the best they can. Jun rents an apartment in his last year of high school, (It takes Tatsuya a while to admit that he considers it their apartment, even though he'd been the one to push for it, insisting on paying a portion of the expenses, and he is the one that keeps his textbooks there, studying and sleeping there more often than not). Lisa and Tatsuya grab lunch when their friends are busy and Lisa claims every interaction between the two of them as romantic while Tatsuya remains firm in his stance that it is not and never will be. Eikichi wastes zero time enlisting the group as back-up members and fans of Gas Chamber.

Tatsuya does live to resent the fact that he’d ever considered Nyarlathotep silent, because he remains a frequent star of his nightmares; his reach extending to days when he can practically feel the asshole's voice, whispering poisoned affirmations that he'll never be gone, and that he remains always in Tatsuya. In everyone he loves. In everyone he sees. It takes him a while to adjust to these thoughts, to try and calm down the wound up part of him enough to bite back. 

Yeah, but you aren’t all of me. I will rebuild my future. I will keep it safe from you. He hopes it’s not a vow he'll have to sacrifice, chooses to believe it isn’t. Tatsuya has to remind himself of this whenever he falls into bad habits, but he soon finds that after the nightmare is over he wakes to a life, one without cities that morph into spaceships, outer-gods messing with reality, and one with the people he cares about the most, and begins again.


	2. Chapter 2

He’s crawling, body weighed down by fear and over-exertion. It’s too dark for him to know where he is, to see who or what it is that pulls against him. What might be tendrils creep up from whatever abyss lies below them, and Tatsuya doesn’t see them so much as he can feel them, writhing with a frantic intensity he can’t comprehend, relentless and without any sign of exhaustion. It’s the polar opposite to how he feels, and he has to swallow a wave of panic when his mind volunteers the increasingly probable reality that whatever this thing is, it grows stronger as he does weaker.

‘You’ve been here before.’ A part of him whispers. He pushes the thought away as violently as possible, as if mentally forcing it away will make all of this just stop.  
He looks up instinctively, and memories begin to surround him like projections. He recalls each of them as he sees them. Maya, using the last of her strength to smile, growing weaker in his arms as she lies for their sake. The masked circle, when it was just five lonely kids hiding behind masks to find a place to belong before a fire rips it from them. Jun, the day they’d met, and the day they exchanged treasures. He finally does see the tendrils, as they somehow climb their way up the memory of Eikichi, Lisa, and Jun unconscious and strung up like marionettes for Nyarlathotep to ruin. 

Tendrils coil back like a spring and Tatsuya realizes it all too late. He opens his mouth to scream as the frames containing everything he loves shatter, the last light dissolving into the dark.

He’s absolutely drenched in sweat, breathing so fast he’s convinced his body believes its been running a damn marathon. The covers on his side of the bed have been thrown off. He’s apparently caused enough of a scene to wake Jun, because when he turns to look at him, partly to make sure he’s truly there – he’s blinking, shaking off the heaviness of sleep. 

“Nightmare?” He asks softly, and Tatsuya sighs, head jerking upward in some semblance of a nod.

“Tatsuya…won’t you tell me about it?”

They normally did. Nightmares were a frequent occurrence for both of them, more often than not sharing the same themes. Tatsuya suspected they only retained their sanity because they endured it together.

“It was him.” Tatsuya admits. He doesn’t have to specify which him – it’s always Nyarlathotep, to a degree that it’s irritating. “I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t fight him. I couldn’t get to you guys before he –“ He cuts himself off. “It might have just been memories but he took everything.” Again, he doesn’t add. 

Jun pulls him closer, hands curling behind Tatsuya’s head, fingers tangling in mussed Auburn hair as he rests their foreheads together. Tatsuya begins letting go, starts by breathing slower. 

“Tatsuya?” Jun murmurs. “He’s not here, has no power over us here, no matter what our darkest fears might say. You’re here. I’m here. And that is a miracle I’m grateful for every day.”

Some mornings are like this – one of them assuaging the other of guilt or carrying the trauma and responsibility together. He’s just not sure if he should be glad or upset that it’s happening now, on a rare day off for both of them.

“Tanbata.” He says, suddenly. “Shit. Weren’t we going to-“ 

“It’s still early. We can work through it slowly, spend the day however we need to.” 

Tatsuya nods. “Okay.”

 

When they’d first moved to this town, the park had been one of the first places they’d gravitated to. Jun liked the flower beds, while Tatsuya had developed a silent appreciation for the enormous trees that framed the area, adding a layer of tranquility he appreciated on days where his head started jumping at shadows.

When they’d pulled themselves out of bed and Tatsuya had started the very gradual and patient process of reintegrating his mind with the idea of the outside world, he’d emerged to find Jun, midway through preparing a makeshift picnic basket. Now, as Jun walks him to a spot beside the trees, he closes his eyes and takes in the faint breeze, the sound it makes as it passes through the trees, carrying with it the smell of lavender as Jun’s hand finds his own.

Tatsuya rests against one of the trees before they unpack, and they’ve only gotten as far as taking out a coffee thermos when a rustling in the trees above them startles them both.

Peering up, they lock eyes with a small figure with unruly black hair. The kid looks to be in elementary school. He wears shorts, a t-shirt, and a hooded vest, all of which do little to hide the scrapes on his arm, and a slight discoloration on one of his cheeks that Tatsuya doesn’t want to think too deeply about. “I should warn you,” He says, feet swinging from the branch he sits on like he isn’t high enough that he could fall and crack his skull. “I’ve already claimed this spot.” Behind him is a backpack, nestled in a nook where branches meet.

“...I see. You’ll have to forgive us.” Jun plays along. “We weren’t aware that this spot was reserved, Ah-?”

“Akira.” The kid supplies. 

“You have a lovely name, Akira-kun.” Jun coos, and Akira watches him, expression neutral, curiosity lingering behind his eyes. He doesn’t appear to be used to the idea of adults fawning over him. “Is there a family name we can attach to that?” Jun adds. “We are trespassing, after all.”

Akira shakes his head. “Just Akira’s fine.”

What the hell, he’ll bite. “You’re looking after this place on your own?” Tatsuya asks.

Akira nods.

“I see. Are you waiting to meet up with family? Or friends?”

Akira considers this for a moment. “No.” 

“But they must know about the spot you have here.” Tatsuya says, carefully. The last thing he wants is for Akira to feel cornered. Not when he doesn’t see his parents and he isn’t sure where Akira got those injuries.

Akira shuffles. “Yeah.” It’s a lie, and he utters it like he doesn’t particularly care about maintaining its legitimacy, like it’s an obligation.

“Okay.” Tatsuya says. He suspects that Akira is the sort of kid who would be more likely to run than feel safe if Tatsuya were to take out his badge.

“Akira-kun?” Jun asks. “This is a nice spot, isn’t it?”

Akira nods.

“Would you be willing to share it with us?”

Akira is silent, eyes elsewhere, like he’s considering the pros and cons of such an agreement. Tatsuya wonders if the idea of spending time with adults makes him uncomfortable.

“We’ll compensate you.” He says, wondering if he’s exaggerating just how thin Akira looks. He gestures to the picnic basket. “We have more food than we need. Let’s say…we share a third of our portions in exchange for the spot?”

Akira’s attention shifts exclusively to the basket. “I accept those conditions.”

Tatsuya swallows a brief tinge of anxiety as Akira climbs down, but Akira seems blase towards the possibility of falling and cracking his skull, moving as if climbing is second nature. He’s quiet as they prepare the plates, but this doesn’t bother either of them. When he’s handed his share he eats graciously, and from there, they’re able to make slight conversation. 

“How old are you, Akira?” Jun asks.

Briefly, he hesitates, but in the time it takes him to blink he responds. “Eight and a half.”

“You’re very independent for someone your age.” Jun praises him.

Akira shrugs. “I have to be.”

And there it is. “What do you mean by that?”

Akira puffs his cheeks in what might be an expression of frustration or contemplation. “Since we’re in an agreement – can you keep a secret?”

“of course.”

“You’ll regret it if you don’t.” He warns.

“Lay it on us.” Tatsuya says.

“I haven’t had a mom or dad for a while.” He says. “I was gonna be transferred to another orphanage cause my last foster home didn’t work out. I don’t wanna go there and I don’t wanna go to another one.”

“Did something happen?”

He’s suddenly tense, and Tatsuya realizes this primary school aged kid carries his apprehension and stress the way many adults do. “Some bad things happened when my  
parents were around.” Akira says. “I don’t really remember it, but the adults at the shelter told me they died because of it. They don’t want me there. Other kids hate me and the adults punish me when I go off on my own.”

“Akira-kun, you’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” Jun asks, brows furrowed.

Akira shrugs. “This is better. I don’t want to transfer, and I can handle myself.”

“you’d rather be alone? Wouldn’t you be scared?”

Akira shakes his head.

Tatsuya and Jun exchange a Look. “All right.” Tatsuya says, finally. “I’m not about to force you, but I am not going to let you spend the night outside.”

“oh.” Akira says. “I’ve done it before.”

Tatsuya and Jun exchange a Look, and Tatsuya is unsurprised yet relieved to find them on the same page. 

Convincing the kid to leave his refuge in the tree and leave with them is a gradual process, and it’s almost painful because he clearly doesn’t want to be alone, but doesn’t understand anything else. They don’t have a plan, and this becomes apparent even after they offer to pick up a backpack for Akira that isn’t falling to pieces. Tatsuya wonders if they’d be able to find a foster family or orphanage Akira would feel comfortable in.

He’s contemplating this as they walk, Akira’s new, untattered backpack resting on his shoulders, briefly startled when he looks up and realizes they’d somehow decided to check out the festivities and he’d completely missed it. 

Tanbata, right. He supposes his head has good reasons for being utterly disconnected from reality. He resents it anyway. All three of them have earned a breather though, and he smiles slightly as they approach the booths.

Akira is very careful about what he does ask to try, until Tatsuya catches this and suggests they try as many booths as they can. He visibly lightens, pointing out the booths he’s seen or heard of, asking then about the ones he hasn’t like it’s information he intends to soak up in its entirety. Tatsuya can tell that Jun is about to buy the whole festival for him if he so much as asks, and his heart is in the process of wringing itself every time Akira smiles.

Akira stops, fixated on rows of masks. “I know these too.” He marvels, voice barely above a whisper. “they’re on TV every weekend and we’re allowed to watch sometimes after we do our chores.”

There’s something very strange settling into the creeks of Tatsuya’s heart. There’s a part of him that never quite stopped wondering if every little thing that happened to him wasn’t coincidence, and instead is fate, tugging him down a path he can’t refuse or escape. 

Jun also seems to be struggling, but he moves, quick. Decisive. He retrieves a Black Condor mask, puts it right on his face.

“Do you know who this is?”

“Black Condor.” Akira says, confident.

He can’t see Jun’s expression through the mask, but he knows he’s being challenged, dared. He laughs.

“okay, what about this one?” the salesman is watching them with an amused expression ad he dons his old persona – the Red Hawk.

“Red Hawk.” He beams. 

“Did you know? Jun lifts the mask, lets it rest on top of his head. “these masks have the power to give you the strength to make true friends and find a place to belong.”

“Is there one you like?” Tatsuya asks.

Akira is silent for a moment, eyes finally lingering on Green Parakeet.

Tatsuya grins. “We'll take three.” 

Akira looks at him with wide eyes, but accepts the mask eagerly once it is handed to him. He clutches it to his chest as if he’s afraid it’ll be snatched from him, places it on  
immediately.

As they walk around the festival, Tatsuya can’t help but feel vaguely euphoric. There’s a part of him that wonders of what they’re doing is stupid, or cheeky, testing their luck  
by imitating memories that shouldn’t exist. Subconsciously, they would have existed anyway, a part of him nudges at his inner Nyarlathotep. You can’t permanently erase things like this. Not even him.

When they stop at one of the benches, crafting a very late and makeshift supper of festival food, Tatsuya can tell the kid is starting to crash.

“Tired?” He teases.

“I’m not.” Akira insists.

One of them has to ask it, and Tatsuya knows neither of them are looking forward to it.

He clears his throat. “…were you really going to sleep outside tonight?”

A nod.

“and those bruises. Are from your orphanage.”

Akira blinks. Nods again. A smile is fighting it’s way up Jun’s face, because he knows Tatsuya too damn well and wants the same thing. He sighs, more flustered that his partner can read him like a book than anything . “If we have to, we can call and explain that Akira was exhausted, so we’ve taken him to our home to rest, if this orphanage is looking for him.”

“you’re letting me sleep at your house?” Akira blinks. 

“you look like you need it.” Tatsuya responds. “And I’m not eager to take you to a place where you’ve been mistreated. 

The kid's eyes are shining. “thank you.”

Their place is relatively self-explanatory, but they show Akira around regardless. The door opens to a large room, a space reserved for their dining area in the upper left corner. The right half of the room divides itself into two spaces, a wall at its center placing their kitchen next to the dining area and leaving the rest of its space for the living room. Their hallway connects a bathroom and 2 bedrooms – one of which Jun has morphed into a study. 

They enter it now, Jun methodical. “Would you prefer couch or futon?” Jun asks vaguely. “The bookshelf is here, but I can move this desk by Tacchi’s in the living room to give you more space.”

Akira is too bemused throughout this entire process to answer, which is fine because Jun is far too in the zone to really require an answer as he sets about moving his desk, chair, and mountains of paper into the living room. They had been talking about turning it into a guest room anyway, because their friends and relatives liked to show up with zero notice. 

When he looks down, he notices Akira is looking at him and beaming. Then he realizes he’s been smiling this entire time and clears his throat. “So I think we should probably get out of his way for a bit. Do you want anything to drink?”

Akira, Tatsuya has noticed, appears to have an adults’ palate, insisting that he can drink a cup of coffee with Tatsuya. Tatsuya dismisses this gently, negotiating for tea solely because he does not think he should be in the habit of giving 8 year-olds coffee before bed. Just as he considers coercing Jun into letting the two of them help, he appears in the doorway.

“Akira-kun? What do you think?”

Akira hops down from his seat at the table and follows. Tatsuya’s pretty sure both of their eyes widen, because Jun has somehow managed to make it look like they’ve done this before.

“Are these books all yours?” Akira asks, once he’s begun his examination of the room.

Jun nods. “Do you like to read, Akira-kun?”

“A little. I’m still learning. Hey! Is that English?”

“French.” Jun laughs as Akira inspects the shelf. 

“Oh.” Akira carefully pulls out books to examine their covers. “this one has your picture on the back.”

“It’s his.” Tatsuya notes, a hint of pride in his voice. “I married a Super Genius .” He whispers conspiratorially. 

“that must be how he fixed the room so fast!” Akira whispers back, eyes wide and suddenly Tatsuya can’t help but laugh between Jun’s face turning beet red and Akira looking at him like he’s a secret superhero he’s managed to unmask.

“I know this one.” Akira murmurs. “I think the older kids used to read it at our shelter.”

“Why not read it now?” Jun reaches over, turns the lamp on and the light off. “or I could read it to you, if you like.”

“Would you?” Akira blinks.

“of course.” 

The muscles in his face are betraying him, so Tatsuya places a kiss to Jun’s cheek, offering a quick “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.” Before disappearing into the space where he can smile like an idiot in private.

If he listens carefully, he can hear Jun read to Akira in lulling, soothing tones, but it fades out as he opens his Laptop, eyes narrowing at the work his past self has graciously left for him to finish.

Jun has considered himself relatively distant from the memories of his father reading to him. They rarely resurface, and there are occasions where he can’t remember in which timeline certain memories took place. Even when he’d only had the memories of Jun Kurosu, they’d been relatively bastardized and unreliable themselves. The nostalgia is there as he reads to Akira, but it’s different, somehow warmer than even his fondest memories. Easier even, as he finds himself relaying these memories to Akira when he asks where he'd first read it, and the usual confusion and deliberation attached to the past is gone. He closes the book gently once Akira begins to doze, places a kiss to Akira’s forehead before he realizes what he’s doing.

‘mmn. G’night papa.’

Tatsuya is intently focused on something on his laptop, which is slightly unfortunate because he’s currently having a mental crisis and may be about to pull him away from work for it, but it can’t wait.

“Tacchi.” He murmurs. “what are you doing?”

Tatsuya let’s out something between a laugh and a sigh. “I’m. Looking at adoption papers? You were with Akira, and of course we’d have to talk about this, but-“

Jun all but lunges for him. “Thank God.” He murmurs. “I was racking my brain trying to figure out how to let him go.”

Tatsuya leans into the embrace. “Me too. We can ask him about it when he wakes up.”

“We should make him a breakfast for kings.” Jun adds.

“I’m not always much good for that.” Tatsuya snorts. “I guess I’ll have to pick it up.”

Neither of them gets much sleep. They rise at an ungodly 5am but Tatsuya figures it’s a good thing because by the time Akira emerges he's managed to keep his portion of their breakfast edible.

“Good Morning, Akira-kun!” Jun smiles. “did you sleep well?”

He nods. “you’re making breakfast?”

Tatsuya chokes through a laugh. “Trying to.”

Jun rolls his eyes. “It tastes fine, Tacchi, I told you.”

“It smells good.” Akira offers.

“Akira,” Tatsuya begins. “Do you like it here?”

He nods. “Yeah. I like it a lot.”

“That’s great! Because we wanted to ask you if you’d be willing to live here.” Jun says.

Akira looks incredulous. “Me?” 

“There’s no one else here to ask, is there?” Tatsuya grins.

“Are you sure? People say- because my parents-“

“Couldn’t care less.” Tatsuya cuts him off there. 

“Won’t it be hard?” Akira asks.

“We’re willing to fight until this is your home.” Jun says. “If you’d like that.”

Akira is silent for a long moment, clutching the mask to his chest with white knuckles.

“…I would like that.” He says finally. “please.” 

“Consider it done.” Tatsuya smiles. “welcome home.”

“I’m gonna need to figure out what to call you.” Akira says, stepping forward and tackling Tatsuya with a bear hug. Tatsuya lifts him up and prays it isn’t obvious that he  
appears to be gradually becoming more adrenaline than human. When he glances to Jun, he’s smiling like he’s the most content he’s ever been and Tatsuya relaxes. He won’t worry, not if he’ll be good enough for this kid. He’ll make it a reality.

“You can call us whatever you like.” He says quietly.

“mmmm….” Akira thinks. “How about you’re ‘dad’” He tests the word like it’s from a different language, shifts to look at Jun, eyes widening as he recalls a faint memory.“And Jun-san….Papa?”

Jun blinks, visibly overwhelmed now that the reality of the situation is turned to him. He nods. “I think that’s perfect, Akira.”

“Do you want to know what your last name will be?” Tatsuya asks. Akira nods, curiousity shining in his eyes.

“Kurusu Akira.” He has never once tired of hearing his and Jun’s combined surname. When Jun had expressed desire to change his name, they’d been surprisingly swift with their solution. Neither of them was against the idea of eloping but it brought on enough attention and shock from their families to be exhausting. Jun had wanted Kurosu, as a memento, he’d claimed. Tatsuya had initially worried that he was hanging on to the guilt contained in that past timeline, but Jun had insisted that there were pleasant, if not formative, memories in the name as well.

“Kurosu is easier to combine with Suou than Kashihara.” It’d been a weak excuse, but no one had been able to argue when they'd actually done it, barely out of high school and never expressing regret once.

“Kurusu.” Akira murmurs. “I like it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this far! I've been chipping away at a (roughly?) 10-piece fic series for the p5 flower child au, and I've finally kicked my ass enough to post this bit.  
> It's a bit scattered, but I hope it was enjoyable. My writing's a bit rusty and it's probably been literal years since I've tried to write about any of the persona characters, so I'd absolutely be open to any feedback!
> 
> Some notes
> 
> I can't claim to know exactly how life is as an orphan in Japan, but I do remember reading that if an orphan's parents are alive and haven't stated that they want to give up custody of their child, then the kid in question can't be adopted, even if they never visit or have anything to do with the child again. Akira in this story barely knew or remembers his biological parents, but they were...not great as parents and neglected him for days at a time, caught up in crime and their own self-interests, but I don't think I'll go into much detail regarding them because Jun, Tatsuya, and the rest of the p2 cast fill the void they left and more.
> 
> The way I've been writing Akira is as a person who has never quite fit in, originating at his orphanage where labels clung to him as a result of having "irresponsible criminals as parents". He's been seen as being a bit off, too quiet and unfazed in a way that unnerved some of the caretakers in the orphanages.


End file.
